


Gifts

by wallofglass



Category: Holby City
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallofglass/pseuds/wallofglass
Summary: Pointless Christmas fluff set sometime before David’s death in a universe where everything is nicer.





	Gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crispycrumblycrust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispycrumblycrust/gifts).



pushkin, james something?, book with the red cover - something about bees???

Henrik stared down the list, feeling such a heady rush of affection that he struggled to keep a grin from his face. John, poor, sweet John who had never read anything more literary than Agatha Christie, who dragged his heels round the bookshop whenever Henrik brought him, who had sulked for days when Henrik caught him rapturously reading The Da Vinci Code in the bath, had written a list of books to buy Henrik. He had probably even gone to the bookshop on his own and wandered amongst the tall shelves, lost without Henrik to trail behind.

Henrik prided himself on his gift giving abilities; in university he had given John a beautiful set of notebooks and John had practiced his neat handwriting for weeks before daring to put notes in them, and he always sent Roxanna and David a good hamper and a few trinkets that were perfectly suited to them. He knew that John struggled. He was so focused on the science, on the work, that things like people’s interests slipped through his memory and he ended up giving them nothing, or something so painfully generic that he cringed as he handed it over. Henrik had assumed that this foible would continue now that they were — whatever exactly they were, but apparently John had other ideas. Ideas like impressing Henrik and making an effort.

***

‘Can I help you sir?’

John immediately cringed away from the question, forgetting for a second that he had to ask for help today. Usually he followed in Henrik’s impressive wake, watching with jealous eyes as his long, elegant hands trailed over the spines of the books. When they were in bed those hands counted the notches on John’s spine, and he couldn’t help but remember as he watched.

‘Yesss— I’m looking for anything on this list,’ John handed it over, stolen from the kitchen table, hopefully before Henrik could see it. The shop assistant frowned down at it, trying to translate John’s poor knowledge of books. It took almost an hour to identify ‘james someone’ as Henry James, an author Roxanna had recommended to Henrik, but eventually John left with an arm full of books and a subscription to the shops online mailing list. He also suspected the shop assistant had been flirting with him.

***

‘What should I get him? He’s trying so hard, I just want to get him something special.’

Henrik huffed at David’s ideas, most of which involved food. Rox had subtly suggested something for the bedroom but that was too scary to contemplate. He was only just getting used to having John’s body under his hands without bringing cold plastic and batteries into it. He wrapped a layer of self-derision around the image of John pushing himself down onto black plastic, putting on a show for Henrik, and focused on the watches he had found himself looking at. None of them were right; either too flashy or too basic. John was somewhere in the middle. He wandered around aimlessly for a while, silver rings and necklaces flashing past his eyes, before alighting on a small display hidden at the back of a cabinet. Suddenly, his stress was gone. He had the perfect gift.

***

Christmas had always been a difficult day for John. For the first few years of his life it had meant more people around, more bruises, more— everything. Then in the home it had been second hand gifts from the local charity and a bag of chocolate coins. Henrik had given him his first ever proper gift, and even then he had been so terrified that he would spoil the creamy pages that he had only stared at the leather binding of the notebooks for months. But this year Christmas was waking up next to Henrik, surrounded by the smell of him, last nights whisky glasses on their bedside tables, with nothing to do but cook and eat and ambush Henrik underneath the sprig of mistletoe he had put over the bedroom door. And at some point work up the courage to press the toy Rox had persuaded him into buying into Henrik’s hand.

But for now, Christmas was lying on Henrik’s chest exchanging gifts without the hassle of getting up and getting dressed. Henrik had slipped out to make a coffee, then returned to the warmth of the blanket and John’s body.

***

‘Here, merry Christmas,’ John held his bag of gifts ransom until Henrik kissed him. He looked smug as Henrik leafed through the books and sifted through the assorted gifts John had picked up in town.

‘You outdid yourself this year, John,’ said Henrik, watching as John squirmed with pride at the praise. He never changed. Even now, despite his obvious delight at pleasing Henrik, he was casting glances at the small box with his name on it on Henrik’s table. When he finally got his hands on it, John tore into the paper like the child he had never been allowed to be, dropping the box on the bedsheets as he pried the tie bar from its velvet stand. When he looked up at Henrik his eyes were glassy and he stammered out a thank you

‘Henrik I— thank you.’

Henrik forgot to suppress his smile this time.


End file.
